6 blue chairs, all proud and empty.
A fingerprint decorated glass table.
Adorned by a cheap black plastic phone.
A abandoned business card of an unsuccessful sales call, forgotten.
Some old magazines, unfortunately none exciting.
A desk calender lost in February.
A gluestick getting horny at one corner.
A calculater gasping for some one to push its long untouched buttons.
LED Lights staring with blank lust on empty left award shelves.
One coffee Mug illuminated in the right award shelves.
Air Conditioner Moaning away, suppressing yawns.
While I wait on the 7th Chair, twiddling my thumbs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem